


If We Didn't Sleep Poorly, We Wouldn't Sleep At All

by TwiExMachina



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: 5+1 Things, Brotherly Bonding, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Minor Violence, Sibling Bonding, Very minor (but still present) Fem!Corrin/Saizo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 08:34:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7162610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwiExMachina/pseuds/TwiExMachina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The five times Kaze woke Saizo up and the one time Corrin did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If We Didn't Sleep Poorly, We Wouldn't Sleep At All

**Author's Note:**

> I touched Saizo's cleavage while he was sleeping and he said he thought I was Kaze. I was amused by this and wrote a thing.
> 
> I know Fire Emblem timelines are kinda vague, but I feel like I ended up taking a lot of liberties with when some events happened, how old they were when it happened, how old they are now.......

1—Children, Still Capable of Fun

 

They may have been twins, but Kaze was unmistakably the younger brother. The minute difference might as well’ve been years. Kaze struggled with some of the finer aspects of being a ninja while Saizo knew how to kill efficiently. Kaze had to grow into a ninja while Saizo was ready to serve Ryoma at a young age (and kill his father’s murderer, but that came later).

Kaze was an easier riser than Saizo though. He woke immediately at the slightest noise. Saizo was nearly dead to the world when sleeping and tended to freak out and stab someone when he fully woke up. A good reaction, but if it required someone physically trying to wake him up to provoke it, it was an inconvenience. 

Kaze knew this. He was sympathetic with Saizo’s failure to be a perfect ninja and made a vow to help him with his plight in the only way a little brother knew how: by being a jerk about it.

Kaze had cold hands. Saizo had a shirt with a v-neck. Hoshidan weather tended to be warm. Saizo himself was a very warm person. All of these things meant that when Kaze walked in, Saizo’s chest was uncovered and made a perfect spot for Kaze’s hands.

And so did Kaze's hands find their way on Saizo's chest. And Saizo yelled, rolled off the bed, and sprung to his feet, all descriptions that made him sound far more coordinated and in control than he was in that moment. He would've thrown his shuriken, but the brass weapon was gone. He blinked, realized he was staring at a near-giggling Kaze, and fell back to himself. “You,” Saizo hissed. In his head, he sounded like their father, with a deep commanding voice whose tone dipped low enough to sound like an oncoming storm. In reality, he was ten.

“I'm helping you wake up,” Kaze said with a straight face. Then he smiled and looked far too smug, like their mother. “Isn't that what you wanted?”

Saizo wanted something witty to say. He was ten though, and he just woke up too. “Your hands are cold.”

“Ninjas have to endure much.” He was struggling to keep a straight face. It honestly annoyed Saizo. Saizo the fifth had lifetimes of ninja to live up to, had felt their weight since he first opened his eyes, his first memory was of him already used to the life, and Kaze joked like it was nothing.

“I'm awake now. So go.”

Kaze shrugged, now deflated. “Okay.” He tossed Saizo’s star back to him and Saizo caught it between his fingers, maintaining eye contact. It looked flawless. “See you, brother.”

Saizo continued glaring as Kaze left. When he was gone, Saizo lowered his hand and set the shuriken to the side. It had nicked the space between his fingers and bright blood blossomed there. Saizo pressed his thumb down and pushed hard.

 

2—Pre-teens, Old Enough To Fail

 

It was assumed that Saizo would one day serve Ryoma. It was the Saizo way, and the fifth would be no different. Ryoma seemed like a kind man—he only was a couple years older than Saizo, barely even fourteen, but he felt older and warranted being called a man—and worthy of Saizo's good title.

Kaze seemed lost though, the second child. A ninja in his own right, but yet without a place. He only showed this wariness in private (though he shouldn't have shown it at all; ninjas were supposed to internalize everything). Saizo was not worried. Kaze may have been second, but they shared the same blood.

Then Kaze accompanied the King and his young girl to Nohr. Saizo was asleep when Kaze returned. Kaze put his hand on Saizo’s chest. His fingers were cold and damp and Saizo jerked awake, clawing out at Kaze’s hand. As his battle alertness faded into cognition, Saizo realized that Kaze was crying. “Brother?” Saizo started.

“He's dead and she's gone,” Kaze whispered.

“Wha—Kaze, what?”

“He's dead and she's gone. They…” Kaze covered his face and cried.

Saizo realized what he was referring to. “Our King…”

“Yes.”

“Our lady…”

Kaze stuffed his hand in his mouth and sobbed. Saizo had a feeling that he should've been feeling something as well. Anger, shock, distress. But he felt nothing. He was a bit numb, maybe, but somehow that felt like too powerful a word. He felt like the exclamation ‘oh’, that he was something so minor and understated. Even his father cried, occasionally. But Saizo wasn't even sure if he had any emotions then. He stopped floating when Kaze spoke again. “It's my fault.”

Ah. Survivor’s guilt. Saizo the fourth taught him a lot about that, about how the mind worked, how it would affect his men, how it could affect him. If he knew what he was experiencing, he could do something to recover. Saizo thought for a moment and spoke. “It is not. We may be ninja, but we are still young. You could not be expected to fight off an ambush.”

“No. I saw the archers. I saw them lurking. And I did not say anything. And because of that, they're…she's gone, Saizo.”

Saizo stared at his brother. “You're right. It is.”

Kaze bit down on his hand and drew blood.

Saizo saw the blood start to drop and pulled Kaze’s hand away. He didn't want him to hurt himself, especially over this. If he recognized his problem, he could improve. He had to recognize that. “You made a mistake. Do not make it again.” Saizo was surprised by how his voice sounded, how deep it was turning, like their father. He was almost frightened by its sharpness, so unlike him. 

Kaze nodded, made his face stony, and walked out of his room.

Saizo did not know what to do.

 

3—Teenagers, Unafraid of Their Own Tears

 

Everyone dies, eventually. Saizo had taken enough lives for the concept of death to stop being romantic. He accepted it as inevitable. He would die, one day, most likely in battle. Kaze would too. Their father would die first. Saizo had prepared for it, when he would be the only living Saizo. He squared his shoulders, ready for it.

And then it happened and Saizo was lost.

He didn't cry. Crying would've meant he felt something. He felt nothing but heaviness. He laid in his bed and waited. He didn't have any motivation to do anything. It was shameful. But he slept, not because he was tired, but as a way to pass the time.

He felt Kaze touch his chest and jerked up. It was the most alive he felt in a while. It sapped out of quickly though, the adrenaline only a burst of faked energy. “Kaze,” Saizo started.

“Wake me up,” Kaze said. Unlike the incident years ago, when Kaze was tearstained, he just seemed dead, pale and drawn. Kaze spoke again, his voice raspy. “He cannot be dead. Not like this.”

Saizo knew too, in his heart, that it was far too simple of a battle for Saizo the fourth to die. He'd thought about that a lot, though he didn't know yet what to do with that. But his doubts were different than Kaze's. “If this is a dream, be sure to wake me too.”

“Ah.” Kaze tilted his head back and breathed deeply. He stood there silently, swaying a bit as he fought to stay upright.

“Death happens,” Saizo said. He intended for it to be the start of something, but lost all of the words.

“I'm aware,” Kaze said. He sounded tired. 

“Can you not sleep?” Saizo asked, voice quieter. He had fully settled into puberty, a deep rasping voice that was fit for a Saizo, so it no longer sounded gentle.

Kaze shook his head. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

“No. Those who are dead can never return. They simply are gone from here.”

“Then I do not know what is beside my bed.”

“It’s your own fears.”

“No, it's more physical than that.”

Saizo groaned and stood up. He grabbed his scarf and wrapped it around his face. He had been teased by Mikoto’s diviner for how pretty he ended up being and realized that his face was a liability. He kept it covered now. Kaze didn't realize it yet that he was just as pretty as Saizo and caught stares. Saizo grabbed Kaze’s arm and tugged. “Come on.”

“Where are you going?”

“You're too old to sleep in my room. Come on.”

Kaze walked off. “We're the same age. You're too old to babysit me.”

He was right, but Saizo would not let himself be embarrassed. “Suppose that there is an assassin, and you are sensing their presence. I should not leave you to fend on your own. I am the better ninja.”

“Of course,” Kaze replied in that flippant tone he often used. It was a comfort hearing it. “But will you sleep?”

“I've slept enough.” Saizo watched Kaze lay back down in his futon. “I've had my moment of weakness, now you take yours. You don't often get this chance so use it wisely.” Saizo falls down, crosslegged, at Kaze's head. He pressed his hand to Kaze's forehead, like he was checking a fever. Kaze was cold. He was always cold, and Saizo pushed his warmth down. “Go to sleep. When the morning comes, you move on.”

Kaze slept, Saizo watched over him and thought. Saizo knew how strong his father was. He served and protected royalty. Whatever happened in that battle should've been a minor thing. And yet he was dead. It stank like a seaport town after a typhoon. His father did not die so simply. There was treachery afoot, and Saizo wanted to know who was responsible, so he could take their lives. Avenge their father. Make the world right again.

Saizo let that thought harden inside of him. The thought felt heavy, settling like a physical weight in his bones. He wondered if Kaze's sadness and remorse did the same for him over what happened all those years ago. He looked sadder recently, not smiling as genuinely as he used to. He still had his open kindness, but the sorrow had closed him off.

That was a good thing. He was growing up, growing into his role as a ninja. Saizo would grow from this too. He would let his revenge be lava, burning until it hardened into something rigid and jagged.

 

4—Adults, Distant and Bruised

 

Saizo became flames. He let the revenge burn inside him and his smoke made others choke. He learned how to use physical flames too, how to hide flint in his clothes, how to ignite powder in a simple gesture. It was dangerous, his hands roughened by too many burns healed by a rod while handling his flames, but he was good. His Lord Ryoma and complimented him even in his concern, and just that would be enough to numb the pain. The idea of burning whoever murdered his father made it painless.

Kaze grew in his own way, a drifter in the royal family, more mature, more quiet, and more and more concerned for his brother. 

“You're bloody, now,” Kaze said one day.

“I always have been,” Saizo rasped back.

“Just don't get yourself killed,” Kaze said, like he was the big brother in the relationship, like they weren't ninjas.

“I won't.”

He almost did, in Mokushu. He thought he had found the information he needed, the truth to the nagging suspicion he had for five years. And that information, so close to being gained, was lost. He slashed, cut, was stabbed in return. A star slipped by him and tore at his face and his eye was cut. He stumbled, blood and fluid oozing down his face. He lit a spark and burned them. The thatching of the building he was in sparked as well, and Saizo ran.

And ran.

And collapsed.

And woke up to Kaze over him.

He was awake before Kaze put his hand on him, technically, too delirious to make sense of it. Yukimura sticking up his wounds, muttering that he was a fool. Ryoma, sitting by his side in meditation. Kagero, glaring at him as he woke and he wasn't sure if she had been crying or not or if she was just mad all around. Various other points in surgery.

Then Kaze, his hand ever cold even through the bandages, and that was the first time he felt coherent, stayed awake, was sure that he wasn't hallucinating. Saizo did not have the energy to fight back as he usually did. Kaze stared at him, face hard. His eyes were clear. He probably cried earlier. Maybe he was all cried out. “You nearly died, you know.”

“Yeah.”

“What were you doing?”

“I was on a mission.”

“Where?”

“Does it matter?” Saizo tried to sit up. Bad idea. His everything screamed.

“What are you doing, stop.” Kaze pushed Saizo's shoulders down until he lay flat again. “You’ve been injured enough to know not to do this.”

“You're overreacting.”

“Do you have any idea what the extent of your injuries are?”

Saizo grunted. “I've had worse.”

“No you have not. You burned yourself horribly, there's other injuries besides that, and your eye cannot be repaired.”

Kaze was right, Saizo had not had worse. “Oh well. I’ll adapt.” His world may have shrunk, but he was a ninja and his view stretched beyond sight.

“Saizo…”

“I’ll adapt. I’ll heal. I’ll continue on. There will be a next time.” He rubbed his face, over the bandages. 

Kaze fell down on the floor next to Saizo and rubbed his face. Saizo closed his eyes and fell back asleep. Next time, next time.

 

5—Ninjas, Loyal to Their Cause

 

Their former lady had returned, but Saizo did not trust her. He decided to follow her covertly, analyze her behavior, figure out how deeply Nohr had infested her. He had been watching her for one day and had turned in for the night. 

Then someone touched his chest. Immediately, his thought was Corrin had snuck in, was attacking him. He yelled and scrambled for his shuriken, found nothing. Then Kaze laughed. “You never change, brother.”

“Kaze,” Saizo grunted. “What are you doing here?”

“We haven’t spent much time together lately,” Kaze said, sitting down next to Saizo’s futon, handing him back his custom shuriken.

Saizo really didn’t think that the middle of the night was a good time to talk. Kaze was here for some reason though, so Saizo sat up and stared at him, and Kaze stared back, waiting. “So.” What was he expected to talk about? Why was Kaze here? Kaze’s face was expressionless. Saizo had nothing to work off of. Saizo tilted his head so he could see Kaze in the center of his vision. “It has been a while since we have talked. You’ve been busy.”

“Getting captured,” Kaze said with a shrug. And then he smiled a bit.

Another mystery. Why was he smiling? Was it related to him being captured? Oh. “It’s Corrin.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re happy to have met Corrin again.”

“It certainly is a relief, to see her.”

“She has lived in Nohr though. She cannot be trusted.”

“She saved my life before.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“That doesn’t mean anything?” Kaze repeated.

“You shouldn’t have gotten captured in the first place. You’re better than that.”

“Of course,” Kaze said, with less enthusiasm (for some reason; Saizo thought he complimented him).

“And I need to ensure everyone’s protection.”

“You should talk to her.”

“Only when necessary.”

“I think she’d be good for you. She’s very optimistic, I’ve noticed. It’s refreshing.”

“Uh-huh.” Saizo was bored with this conversation. “I’ll fight with her when needed and spy on her otherwise. You should do the same.”

Kaze got the point that it was the end of the conversation and stood. “I have my chance now,” he muttered.

Saizo was confused for a second, then remembered. “You’ve repaid your debt to the royal family already.”

“It was never them I wanted to apologize to.” And Kaze disappeared. Saizo sighed and rubbed his face. It was annoying, but he supposed that was part of their job. Ninjas, ever dutiful, even if Saizo didn’t approve of whom he decided to serve.

 

+1—Twins, Even Still

 

Saizo felt ice on his chest, ice like fingers. Maybe fingers like ice was a better description. Or maybe they weren’t even ice. Saizo was already abnormally warm, so anything below normal body heat might as well have been ice. That’s right, this wasn’t icy fingers, it was fingers with no heat at all, no way to provide heat. It was Kaze’s hand, reaching for him.

Saizo jerked awake, and it was Corrin next to him. She winced, pulling her hand out from under his shirt. “Sorry. You were asleep, so I decided to wake you up.”

Usually she woke up him by stroking his right side of his face, her fingers playing over his scar. Not on his chest. Never there. Kaze was the only one who did that, was annoying enough to do that. He grunted at her, trying to calm his heart.

“I guess groping you wasn’t the best idea.” She laughed a bit awkwardly. She started to move away but he grabbed her hand and pulled her back to her spot next to him. “I couldn’t help it though,” she teased, moving so that her leg was pressed against his. “I mean, you’ve got such nice cleavage.”

“I’m more of a fan of your cleavage,” Saizo said and Corrin flushed. He was getting better at figuring out how to talk to Corrin, how to get her to flush like how she made him.

She brushed his hair back, rubbing her thumb over his temples. “You seemed off when you woke up. I mean, you never really wake smoothly, but there was something else. Am I right.”

“You are.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He took Corrin’s hand and ran his finger over her knuckles. Her hands were warm. They were always warm, like a summer day. Never cold. “I thought you were Kaze.”

**Author's Note:**

> I touched Saizo's cleavage while he was sleeping and he said he thought I was Kaze but Kaze was dead at that point so it wasn't nearly as funny.
> 
> Come visit my Tumblr, [TwiExMachina](http://www.twiexmachina.tumblr.com), if you like! I'm always willing to yell about writing.


End file.
